How to Find Freedom
The liberation of an ex-actor, farmer, and traveler
Nonfiction. Written 8/2020. One of the stories from my time in Hawaii in 2018. One of just many special people I met in Hawaii.
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The naked celebrity sat on a palm tree, high on drugs and shrieking with delight as he watched shooting stars illuminate the sky. Or maybe he’d hallucinated those stars. Hours later, James climbed down and laid face-up on the dirt ground. Night became morning as he delighted in the images flashing in his mind.
He said that was one of the best nights of his life. James had climbed the tree to get a better view of the stars.
Everyone back in Germany would recognize James’ face. Since childhood he’d acted in popular TV series, movies, and music videos. But he didn’t want to act anymore. James, whose name I’ve changed to protect his privacy, wanted to travel in the world. He planned to stay in the United States until his three-month visa expired, then begin the next adventure.
I’d arrived on the farm the night James saw the shooting stars. I’d heard his delighted hollers from a distance. The next morning I saw James for the first time. He walked into the main farmhouse, blue eyes wide as he raved about his drug trip. He wore all black clothing and had a mohawk.
On the organic farm we both volunteered at we tilled the earth and harvested vegetables. On Saturdays we packed produce to sell to Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) subscribers and farmer’s market patrons.
Even menial tasks, like harvesting hundreds of string beans, James accomplished without complaint. James didn’t say a word about the ants that bit us as we moved down rows of string bean plants. Pluck, pluck, pluck.
Most would call James’s life a downgrade from his past. Yet James is one of the most carefree and happy people I’ve met. James knew how to finish work well, then take the farm’s pick-up truck out to explore and make the most of his limited time in the US.
Most celebrities I’ve met are reserved, but James was more spontaneous and energetic than he was in the roles he’d played.
His inner child came to life at the beach. Over and over again, he’d throw himself into the ocean’s roaring waves. He grinned as he kept attempting to bodyboard. The waves kept swallowing him and spitting him out.
He laughed the entire time. He wasn’t trying to be cool. He enjoyed himself. On a beach where nobody recognized his face, on an island where nobody could pronounce his name, in a country which sought to spit him out just like the water pounding him—James was free.